Crusade
by SwordForHire
Summary: When the world is on the brink of war, Hawke, Anders and Isabela set out to find the most powerful mage in Thedas - The Warden. HawkevsCarver, WardenxMorrigan, HawkexIsabela, rated T for language


**This idea came to me when I got curious about where Hawke went after the war. I also loved the idea of having a Hawke/Carver super-rivalry in a story and also Hawke seeking out the Warden during the Mage-Templar war. A big feature will be Warden/Morrigan in this. **

**Disclaimer; I own nothing.**

"Quickly, Anders, we must leave."

Kirkwall was in tatters.

Garrett Hawke had started a war that only a mage could finish.

His crusade begun by returning to his homeland, Ferelden. It was a two week sail, even on Isabela's boat. She called it the fastest thing in Thedas – Garrett begged to differ. At the speed he was running at down the burning streets of Kirkwall, he could have probably made it to Ferelden and back before Isabela had time to get away from the docks. The Templars may have given him freedom, but when they had demanded he handed Anders over, he had left a cloud of smoke where he had stood. What he didn't understand was why Carver had ordered it. His new title of 'Knight-Captain' must have already gone to his head, with Cullen obviously being put in command.

Garrett owed Isabela more than anything. Without her there would be no chance of him and Anders taking there crusade across the world. Garrett's actions in the past seven hours had inspired a Thedas-wide Mage-Templar war. His stop in Ferelden would take him to the capital – he needed to have a word with his majesty, Alistair.

Sprinting past the place that used to be the Qunari compound, Garrett noticed Isabela's ship dock directly below them. She was waving, jumping up and down signalling that they were ready to go. Just then, a platoon of Templars caught up with them.

"Anders, there's no time!" Garrett noticed his friend reaching for his staff, and shoved him ahead. Garrett launched a fireball from his hands at the wall of the compound, the debris blocking the Templars way.

"Hawke, hurry!" Isabela shouted from the ship.

He turned from the Templars and skidded around the corner, following Anders and launched himself from the dock onto the hull of Isabela's ship as it pulled away.

"We did it!" Anders pulled Garrett to his feet, looking back at the Templars standing on the dock.

"What do we do when we reach Ferelden?" Anders asked as they looked toward the horizon.

"We do what we were supposed to do, Anders, we help our kind," Garrett smiled.

"You make us sound like we're a different species, Hawke," Anders laughed, "so how do you intend on winning this war?"

"There is only one way to win," Garrett told him as Isabela began listening in, "we find the Warden. Other than Gamlen, he's the only family I have left. He's the most powerful mage in Thedas and he is the key to winning this war."

"How do you intend on finding him?" Isabela asked, butting in.

"Honestly?" Garrett smiled at her, "I have no idea."

Reaver couldn't remember what grass looked like.

Since arriving in the Anderfels with Oghren almost four years ago – he'd seen nothing but snow. In the Anderfels, there were some people in the Wardens who didn't think much of him, but defeating the Archdemon made him pretty much untouchable.

In his whole life, Reaver had been through far too much. Jowan dying in Arl Eamon's estate, watching Morrigan leave – twice, and now a whole Templar-Mage war caused by the 'Champion' of Kirkwall. If that bastard had been smart, he would have walked away when he'd heard the word 'war', Reaver knew that's what he should have done, but if he'd stayed in the Circle, he would probably be an abomination.

To make matters worse, the 'Champion' was Reaver's second cousin, his aunt Leandra's eldest son, which probably meant Reaver would be sought out sometime soon. He had received word from the Viscount of Kirkwall that his aunt had died, and he'd never felt a pain like it. It wasn't like losing the women he loved, it wasn't like being stabbed – it was something different completely. Reaver was sent to the Circle at the age of six, but he could remember his mother getting a visit from Leandra and her husband.

He had memory flashes of Leandra, her kindness, her fair hair, her voice – all he could remember about her husband was impossibly dark hair. When Leandra died, Reaver felt like he had lost a part of who he was before the Circle. With both his parents dead, and Maker only knowing where his siblings were scattered – or if they were even still alive – Leandra was the only link to his past.

"Warden, you in there?" Oghren was waving his stubby fingers in front of Reaver's face as they sat around a fire in the endless snow dunes.

"I'm here," Reaver said, looking at his fiery-haired friend.

"You were thinking about that sodding war again, huh?" Oghren asked insightfully.

"Yes," Reaver nodded, "and my family."

"That damn kid who caused the war?" Oghren demanded.

"Yes," Reaver nodded again, "when I think about it, I reckon I should help him, if he tries to find me, that is. I mean, he's the only family I've got left, and he stood up for innocent people. It was a pretty good cause to start a war over."

Oghren sighed. "What is it you told me? 'Wardens are forbidden from getting involved in political affairs, Oghren' – tell that to our King in Ferelden, and you can hardly talk with the shit you pulled in Orzammar."

"You've got a point, I suppose," Reaver nodded, putting his hands near the fire.

"What's up with you today, Warden?" Oghren asked, "Nug got your robes in a twist?"

"I've just got a lot on my mind," Reaver said, fiddling with Morrigan's ring on his finger with his eyes on the flames of the fire.

Sometimes he swore he could see Morrigan's eyes in them.


End file.
